So Shame On Us Now
by chalantness
Summary: for Silence11 and SuzyQ113. Alternate scene to 2x09 "Darkest" – If Artemis and Dick had been alone when the Cave was ambushed.


**Title: **_So Shame On Us Now__  
_**Rating:** NC-17  
**Word Count:** 3,600+  
**Characters:** Dick/Artemis  
**Summary:** Alternate scene to 2x09 "Darkest" – If Artemis and Dick had been alone when the Cave was ambushed.  
**Kinks used:** banter; establishing ownership; restraint; masturbation; vision themes; multiple orgasms; hot spots; rough sex; sex against furniture; accidental stimulation; triangles

**For:** Silence11 and SuzyQ113

**So Shame On Us Now**

He's in the training room when the alarm sounds, and when he starts to head for the exit, something hard slams into his jaw. He stumbles backwards and thinks he hears the doors sliding closed like they do when they're ordered into a lockdown state, except he didn't issue any command.

Then his legs are kicked out from beneath him and he lands, hard, with his back against the floor.

He lets out a groan as something drops onto him, nearly knocking all of the air out of his chest, and he feels something cold and hard being fastened around his neck. He forces his eyes open, his vision blurring into focus on what – or rather, _who_ – attacked him.

Artemis.

Even in the new costume, he knows it's her. Her blonde hair tumbles over her shoulders and the glamour charm sparkles at her neck.

He's surprised to see her here, let alone dressed as she is. He knew she was taking on a new alias, and he know that meant she'd have a new costume, but he wasn't expecting something like _this_. Her orange and black spandex hugs her curves, black utility belts hanging at her hips, and her gray eyes peer at him from behind her catlike mask.

He swallows, hard, but not at the costume.

There's _something_ burning in her eyes, and the way she's staring at him makes his throat feel dry. It feels like it should be _wrong_ but he can't find it in him to care.

Not now, at least.

"No powers for your collar to inhibit," he informs with a smirk, quickly bringing his legs up. He presses her throat between his calves, and she lets out a noise of discomfort as he slams her back onto the ground and rolls away, maneuvering himself onto his feet. "Now, mind explaining to me why—"

He gets cut off, though, when a sharp pain explodes around his neck.

He lets out a groan as falls to his knees, grasping for the metal collar as the excruciating shock makes him feel as though his skin is on fire. But before he can touch the collar, he feels himself being thrown back against something hard, his wrists being tugged over his head and clasped into place. He thinks he tastes a little blood in the back of his mouth but he could just be imagining it, too. And when his vision refocuses, he sees that he's sitting on one of the treadmills with his wrists clasped to the metal bar over his head.

Artemis is standing at the foot of the treadmill, one hand on her hip and the other holding onto a small remote, her thumb hovering over one of the buttons.

"I've disabled the computer's access to this room, so don't bother trying to do voice commands," she informs. "The security cameras have been rendered useless, and no one gets in or out unless I give control back to the computer."

"Great. Then it's safe for me to ask why the hell you just shocked me with the inhibitor collar!"

She shrugs one shoulder, twirling the remote in her hand. "You're not exactly an easy person to subdue, you know."

"Should I be flattered by that?"

"You should," she tells him quite seriously. "It's a compliment of the highest degree."

He smiles, and it feels like the first time in forever. "What are you doing here?"

"What? Am I not allowed to visit?"

"Technically, no," he says with a laugh. She returns his smile, and he ignores the way his heart beats particularly hard when he sees it. "But you could've just arranged a meeting at the warehouse or something. You didn't have to ambush me."

"Well, that's what this is," she tells him, walking up to the side of the treadmill. "We're here to ambush you."

She says it seriously. His smile fades. "We?" he echoes.

"They're in the Cave." She sets the controller to the collar onto the console case, and a small part of him feels relieved. He'd rather not be shocked again, thank you very much. "Kal wanted me to be the one to tell you. It's a lot safer than passing on a drive with information." She holds onto the bar. "We're kidnapping the Team."

"Artemis," he exhales sharply.

"It can't be helped," she tells him. "If you plan on rescuing La'gaan, the Team needs to be captured and you have to locate them."

She reaches into a pouch at her hip, pulls out a slim thumb-drive and tucks it securely into one of his holsters. Despite his anger, he arches an eyebrow and remarks, "I thought you said that drives weren't safe?"

"This one is one you stole from the ambush. It contains a list of loading schedules." He nods to let her know that he understands. "Don't take too long when you get Batgirl and Robin to sneak in with the rest of the kids we're shipping. We don't know where Black Manta's delivering them. If you wait too long—"

"I run the risk of really having my Team captured," he finishes. She nods. "Just… keep them as safe as you can."

She purses her lips. "You know I can't promise that."

"It was worth a shot."

She lets out a breath and before he realizes what's happening, she's lowering herself and sliding her legs across him, straddling his waist. He looks into her eyes through the whites of his mask and isn't sure what he sees in them. Well, actually, that's not true at all. He knows _exactly_ what he's seeing, knows _exactly_ what it means.

And he's torn between the fact that he likes seeing it and wishing that he didn't, because it shouldn't be there in the first place. If they were decent people, it shouldn't.

"Do you remember when you taught me how to program the computer?"

The question surprises him (which he realizes is something few people can do to him, and Artemis is one of them).

"Artemis, don't."

She ignores him, which _isn't_ a surprise at all. "I remember," she informs, eyes falling to his lips. He swallows. "It was the same night you told me your secret identity." She reaches up and places her hand against his cheek, fingers tracing the edge of his mask. For a second, he thinks she's about to pull it off. "It was the night we first kissed."

He closes his eyes even though she can't see it. "Artemis," he breathes. He thinks he says it as a plea for her to stop, but he's not entirely sure if that's even what he wants.

"You're a good kisser." She places her other hand on his other cheek. "I really liked it."

"It was still wrong of us," he reminds. "You were with Wally then. You're _still with him_." He knows she understands what he's trying to do, but she ignores it, anyway. "He's my best friend, Artemis. You're my best friend, too. And you're his girlfriend. We shouldn't," he adds lamely.

He doesn't know which of them he's trying to convince more.

Then she leans forward and kisses him, and he lets out a groan from the back of his throat. He hasn't kissed her since that night, but he recognizes her taste: a little bit of spice that makes his lips tingle and a little bit of sweet that makes him crave more. Despite his own attempts at arguing against it, he kisses her back with equal fervor, tugging uselessly against his restraints. He wants to run his fingers through her hair, cradle her beautiful face in his hands, feel her muscle flex underneath his fingertips through her costume.

She lays herself against him so that their chests are pressed against him, her body curving perfectly against his. She tilts his chin, deepening the kiss as her fingers are sliding against his face and tucking into his hair.

She shifts her hips against his and sucks in a breath as she breaks the kiss. He's hard for her and he knows she felt it.

"Artemis?" he asks after a few seconds, because she's sort of frozen and her face is pressed against his neck and he can't tell what she's feeling. Maybe she's starting to realize how bad an idea this is. It's probably for the better if she did.

"Dick, are you…" She rolls her hips against his again and he lets out a groan. "Is that because of me?"

"_God_," he mutters under his breath.

She pulls her face from his neck to look at him. "If you tell me to stop now, I'll stop. We can pretend this never happened." She gathers her hair in her hands and brings it over her shoulder, reaching behind her neck. He hears the sound of a zipper being tugged down. "Tell me to leave and I'll know you don't want me."

He tips his head back a little. He's going to hate himself for saying this.

"Of course I want you. But it doesn't matter what I want because I can't have you. You're Wally's—"

"Stop talking."

She kisses him, pushing her tongue passed his lips, and he hears her tugging the zipper all the way down. When he breaks their kiss, his eyes widen a little. She's sitting in his lap with nothing on the top half of her body but her mask and her glamour charm, the top of her spandex suit having fallen to her waist between them. Then his eyes widen a little more as he notices her hand sliding down her stomach, disappearing behind the material of her suit and grazing against where he's hard for her when she dips her finger into herself.

They both moan loudly. "Artemis," he breathes. He can feel her working her fingers against herself and it's _wrong_ that he can't touch her right now.

He really needs to touch her right now.

"Artemis, take these off," he says, tugging uselessly against the cuffs. She closes her eyes and shakes her head. "_Artemis_," he groans.

"No," she pants, shifting a little and reaching up with her other hand to grip the treadmill bar for balance. He looks down and feels his throat dry as he watches her working her fingers along her soaked sex, her index finger coming up to circle her clit. He groans. He needs to have his hands on her.

She dips her fingers back into herself, flattening her palm against her clit, and arches against him and her hand as she lets out this shaky breath.

"Artemis, come on," he groans.

She circles her clit again and her breath hitches as she spreads her legs a little wider, causing herself to press against him more. "_Dick_," she moans, licking her lips, and he closes his eyes. He can still feel her fingers moving between them. "_Faster_," she breathes, and she increases the speed of her own thrusting as she rolls her hips against his more rhythmically.

She feels so good on top of him. He wonders how much better it'll feel with her soaked and clenching around him.

He swallows, _hard_. This is wrong of them. She shouldn't be doing this. _They_ shouldn't be doing this.

But he's well beyond the point of caring.

"Are you thinking about me?" he asks, partly out of curiosity (although he thinks he already knows the answer) and mostly as a distraction.

"Yes," she breathes.

"Do you always think about me?"

"Yes," she says again, and he groans, rolling his hips against hers. She squeaks in surprise as her eyes fly open, and he realizes that he causes her hand to flatten against herself again. She stares right at him as she continues to finger herself, these broken pants coming out of her mouth.

"Let me out," he nearly growls. She looks like she's about to shake her head again, but he shifts beneath her and causes her to squeal again. "Artemis, let me out."

She uses her free hand to grasp for the remote she set above their hands, and suddenly the cuffs and the collar are falling off at the same time. He wraps an arm around her waist and quickly maneuvers her underneath him, pulling her hand from her as he tugs her suit down her legs and tosses them aside. He stops for a second to take in the sight of her splayed out before him in nothing but her mask and glamour charm, her hair fanning out beneath her head and her legs spread out and her slick sex glistening.

Her hand moves downward again, snapping him from his admiration as he snatches her wrist and pulls it away. "You've done enough."

She lets out this frustrated noise. "_Dick_," she breathes, but then cuts herself off with a cry of pleasure when he suddenly lowers his mouth over her sex, licking up against her folds and flicking at her clit with the tip of his tongue.

"You're such a tease," he says against her, circling her clit slowly, once, twice, and quickly swiping against it on the third time. She rolls her hips against his mouth, pushing her fingers through his hair. "I shouldn't let you come after what you just did to me," he says. He hears her whimper, feels her tug at his hair, and he thrusts his tongue into her a few times. Her legs are quivering, and when he blows lightly, she sucks in a gasp and practically slams her hands down against the treadmill as her muscles pulse.

"Please," she breathes, and he closes his mouth around her clit.

She arches against him and shouts his name, nails scraping against his scalp as she comes undone. He rolls his tongue against her through her orgasm and sucks down on her clit a few times, making her body shudder. The staggered moans coming out of her mouth are driving him crazy.

He's _so hard _right now.

Her muscles clench around his tongue as he thrusts it in and out of her, and then licks up her folds and flattens it against her clit. He's not even sure how long he continues to work his tongue against her, but he can tell by the way she starts breathing brokenly again that if he keeps doing it, she'll come again in a matter of seconds.

_Fuck_, he's _really hard_ right now, but he really wants to get her off again before he's inside her.

He thrusts his tongue into her faster, bringing his hand up and brushing his thumb over her clit a few times. She shudders. "What are you…" she begins, but then her breathing hitches and she's letting out another moan as pleasure washes over her again.

She meekly pushes his head away and he kisses his way up her body until he's slanting his lips over hers, hearing her whimper as she tastes herself on his tongue.

"I need you," she breathes against his lips, hands moving over his shoulders and beginning to tug the zipper of his suit down, and he lets out a breathy laugh. He doesn't know how she could already want more considering she just came twice, but whatever. Artemis has always had amazing physical endurance.

And he's not going to deny her anything right now.

So he groans and rolls his hips, but she shaking her head. "Not here," she breathes, and then she's pushing him off with enough force that he's sliding off of the treadmill and landing onto the floor.

He looks at her in confusion as she's getting to her feet, but then she's pulling him up, too, and bringing their lips together again.

Her hands fumble with his belts, unwinding them from around his waist and tossing them and his holsters aside before her hands come back up and start tugging him out of his costume. He chuckles against her lips – she's being uncharacteristically eager right now, but he's not about to complain – and pulls his arms out of the sleeves, letting her push his suit all the way down until it's pooled on the floor at his feet and he's stepping out of it. He can't believe he lasted that long with the stupid thing on while Artemis was totally naked.

She pushes her fingers into his hair and focuses on kissing him again, stepping forward and backing him up until he feels his legs hit into something. He stumbles a bit (which is something he rarely does, ever) and she pushes at his chest and lowers him.

She breaks their kiss so suddenly that he's kind of hazy for a second, and he realizes that he's sitting (well, lying down) on one of the inclining workout benches.

"Don't move," she tells him, reaching behind him to bring the back up a little more so that he's at an angle. He groans, knowing exactly where this is going, and watches as she licks her lips and then swallows in anticipation.

They're both still wearing their masks. It makes him think, briefly, about symbolism.

But then she's bracing her hands against his chest and rolling her hips, sliding her slick sex slowly along his entire length, and he's not thinking _at all_. He just swallows hard and grasps her hips, digging his fingers. It probably hurts, but she must not care because she rolls her hips again and he digs his fingers a little more.

He closes his eyes when she doesn't move, which is probably a bad idea because then all he can focus on is her clenching around him. He's _dying_, and when she lowers herself over him, he grunts and reflexively snaps his hips up in response.

Her elbow hits his ribs kind of hard when she loses her balance a little, and it's not a pleasant feeling, but it's hardly the worst blow he's ever taken. She presses one hand firmly against his chest, the other reaching up to grip the bar of the barbell over his head for support, and rolls her hips just slightly. It's not nearly enough, but it feels _so good_.

"_God_, I feel so much of you," she breathes.

"Artemis," he exhales shallowly, and she starts rolling her hips against him slowly, pulling him almost entirely out before pushing back in. He thinks he draws blood as he grips her waist, but _fuck_, he can't help it.

She leans forward to kiss him lightly, but he grips her forearm and moves his other hand over her shoulder blade, pushing her down against him and causing her hand to slide from the barbell. He rolls his hips up as she grinds her down, and he stifles her scream by sliding his tongue into her mouth. His hand dips from her shoulder and moves along her spine, and she breaks the kiss as she arches against, moaning. He presses his lips against her throat, but then she circles her hips as she grinds down, gasping when he bites her pulse.

His tongue darting out to lick his teeth marks on her skin. He rolls his hips up, his pelvis brushing against her clit, and she cries out breathily. He nips at the skin next to his first bite and then sucks down on the marks. He forgets that she's his best friend's girlfriend when he says, "No one else can have you anymore."

She rolls her hips faster and he matches the rhythm, sinking in deeper with each thrust.

"No one," he repeats, thumb pressing down on the skin where her thigh meets her waist. She sucks in a gasp, throwing her head back, and he presses that spot again, watching her mouth fall open in a broken cry of pleasure. "No one else can make you feel this way."

"No one," she breathes. Her voice is barely there.

He rolls circles over that same spot and her entire body quivers as she lets out this broken pants. He's _so close_, and he can tell she is, too. Her walls are fluttering around him and he knows they're both _seconds_ away from coming, so he angles his hips and thrusts up, and she screams his name as he grazes her spot and presses his thumb against her skin. Her walls clench around him as she's coming undone and he swears it triggers his, too, because he comes right after, rocking his hips through their orgasms.

And he can still feel the last of her orgasm shuddering around him when she lays herself against his chest a few minutes later, laying her head down so that her warm breath is rolling over the crook of his neck.

"I can't believe I just came three times," she exhales in a laugh.

He chuckles and pushes her hair over her shoulder, kissing her skin. "We can try for four," he tells her, and he sees her bite her lip. He can feel himself hardening inside her and he knows she can feel it, too. How that's possible, he's not sure. It's probably because it's Artemis.

She's _always_ interested him.

"There's no time," she says unconvincingly, sitting up a little so that she can meet his eyes. That same spark is in them again. He hasn't seen that since before she left the life with Wally. The only other time he can think of after that was when they were stationed together at the tower to protect the comm. sat.

"We'll make time." He rubs her skin right next to the spot that drove her crazy, and she closes her eyes and hums. "I know you, Artemis. You can go again."

She licks her lips. "What did you have in mind?"

He pushes his fingers through her hair, bringing her close so that his breath is warm against her ear. "Well, there's an exercise bike over there, and it's a stretch, but," he whispers, "It's always been a fantasy of mine to take you on a motorcycle."

She moans his name.


End file.
